


half past midnight

by pinkdementors



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, except not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9527459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkdementors/pseuds/pinkdementors
Summary: Harry and Ginny discuss the war...and being roommates with the Dark Lord.





	

**Author's Note:**

> in response to a tumblr prompt requesting "harry/ginny, soulmate au." this doesn't quite fit the bill, but i hope you enjoy it anyway. 
> 
> http://if-dementors-were-pink.tumblr.com/post/121817805362

“I don’t feel the same.”

Ginny looked up, startled. She had thought she was alone in the Burrow’s kitchen, with its blissfully cool night breeze and quiet thoughts far removed from the war, from May 2nd. She had not expected Harry, leaning on the doorframe and watching her with shaded green eyes.

“I don’t think anyone does, anymore.” Ginny said carefully, watching the way his silhouette—tall, just returning from the brink of unhealthily skinny—cut out the bright light from the doorway. “But how do you mean?”

Harry stepped towards her, sinking into a chair across the table from her. He was not wearing glasses, and in the soft glow of a moonlit night he looked achingly young and uncertain.

“Listen,” he said. “I have to tell you something, but I can’t tell you the whole thing. Not yet. Just promise—promise that you’ll hear me out.”

Ginny’s heart was pounding against her chest, throat slightly dry; she had a faint, dizzying sensation that she was about to hear what Harry was not yet telling anyone from the day of the battle.

“I promise.”

“You remember,” Harry said. “I told you about the Horcruxes? The ring, the cup, the diary…”

“Yeah,” Ginny said, feeling a slight shiver run down her spine. It had come in bits and pieces, Harry’s voice rough and uncertain as he told her about nights spent on the run, fearing for their lives, trapped at Malfoy Manor. When he had told her that the diary had been a Horcrux she hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry; she had settled for doing both, half-sobbing, half-laughing in relief as she buried her face into Harry’s shoulder.

“I told you there were seven,” Harry continued. His voice was hesitant, pupils wide-blown and afraid under the dark shadow of his lashes. “Well—I lied. There were eight.”

Ginny felt something stir uneasily in her stomach, the hair on her arms prickling slightly with fear of where Harry’s story would lead next. “Eight?”

“Eight,” Harry said. “Including me. I—I was the eight Horcrux. That night when Voldemort killed my parents, a piece of his soul latched onto mine. It’s why I was able to see what he was doing, like when I saw your dad was attacked. And it’s why he tried to kill me last month and I’m still not dead. He killed his own Horcrux.”

“Oh, God,” Ginny whispered. “Harry…”

She did not know, exactly, what she was going to say; her throat felt tight and raw, and any helping words she might have summoned up died on her lips as she looked at Harry. In the soft silver light, with his hands wrapped tightly together, he looked more fragile than she had ever seen him. Despite the fact that Voldemort’s ashes had long been scattered away, Ginny felt a hot spark of anger build in her stomach at the cruelties Tom Riddle had caused.

Instead she reached across the table and took his hand, their fingers lacing tightly. Harry gave her a small, genuine smile.

“Harry,” Ginny said, remembering suddenly, “This isn’t all you wanted to talk to me about, was it?’

 “No,” he said, looking at her with slightly less tense shoulders. “I just—I haven’t told anyone, but—“ He paused, taking a deep breath, and ran a hand through his hair. The gesture was so familiar, and so endearing, that Ginny smiled despite herself, and this seemed to give Harry the courage to continue.

“It’s just,” Harry said, “I know it’s good that Voldemort’s gone but—it feels different, somehow. Like there’s a piece of me missing.” He looked up at her, dark eyebrows raised in fear. “Ginny, what if his soul wasn’t completely separate from mine? What if I had always been—“ Harry broke off, voice rough and shaking slightly.

“He wasn’t you,” Ginny said quietly, forcefully. “He wasn’t a part of you, Harry. He was in your head and he did terrible things but you were _never his.”_

“You think?”

“I know,” said Ginny firmly, tightening her hand around his. “Because I know you, and in all the ways that matter you’re the same. You’re just as kind, and just as brave, and you still bite your lip when I compliment you. And I know—because I felt the same way.”

Harry’s eyes were wide and round. “You did?”

“I—yeah,” said Ginny, looking away. “After my first year. It was terrible—I felt hollow, broken. As if some part of me had been left there, on the Chamber floor.” She looked up at Harry, voice trembling slightly. “But it wasn’t me who I had left behind. I left _him_ there, Tom and all the terrible things he ever made me feel. I’m a little different, Harry—I became more confident, stronger, braver. But Tom didn’t do shit to make me like this. That was always me. And you were always you.” Ginny looked back up at him as she finished, eyes stinging. “You’re so much more than him, Harry. You always will be.”

Harry was watching her back, mouth turned up slightly.

“What’re you smiling about?” Ginny asked him, voice sharp.

“You,” Harry breathed, not taking his eyes off her. “You’re like—the strongest person I know.”

She smiled up at him, feeling lightness buoy up inside her like a wave. “The sentiment’s shared, Potter.”

Harry grinned back, bright and crooked, as he pushed out the chair he was sitting in and stood up, shaking out his long legs. Late as it was, Ginny couldn’t help but feel reluctant as their hands broke apart and Harry turned to go back up the stairs.

“So,” she said, smiling at him, “I’ll talk to you in the morning then?”

Harry paused, twisting back around to look at her. “Actually,” he said slowly, taking a few steps towards her, “I think I might have forgotten to do something.”

Ginny arched an eyebrow, suddenly very conscious of how close they were in the small kitchen. “Oh? And what’s that?”

“This,” Harry said, and kissed her. It was quick, his slightly stubbled jaw barely scraping against her chin, but Ginny’s eyes were fluttered shut and her lips buzzing pleasantly when he broke away.

“Wow,” she said, grinning up at Harry. “I was starting to think you were just going to go to bed.”

“I was,” Harry said. “But this is much better.” He frowned, unexpectedly uncertain. “Er—this isn’t too soon for you, right? I know it’s just been a month—“

“It’s perfect,” Ginny told him truthfully. “Besides, it’s only right that you kiss me, seeing as we’re soulmates—”

Harry’s eyebrows flew sharply into his hairline. “We’re what now?”

“Relax,” Ginny told him, laughing. “We’re soulmates. Well, more like soul-roommates, seeing as we shared a piece of the same person’s soul.”

“Somehow,” Harry said, “I don’t find that comforting.”

“We can be regular soulmates,” Ginny told him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “How’s that sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Perfect.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
